


breathless

by sentiwhild



Category: Mean Girls (2004), Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: F/F, but they’re trying to be better for each other, very light angst, we all know they’re not the healthiest pairing in the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 10:12:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15362235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentiwhild/pseuds/sentiwhild
Summary: Regina is basking in the sunlight; head tilted back into the warm rays, eyes closed, feet dangling in the cool water. The day couldn’t be more perfect. Her mother calls out to her across the yard, the song switches, a drop of melting ice-cream drips down the edge of the cone to land on her thumb, and it is in that precise moment that Regina stops breathing.[aka senior year at North Shore and the obligatory Janis and Regina reconciliation fic]





	breathless

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warnings: Homophobia and the use of the d-slur. Mention of near-death experiences and car accidents via the events that follow the bus crash.

Regina is basking in the sunlight; head tilted back into the warm rays, eyes closed, feet dangling in the cool water. Shouts and laughter surround her from all sides, a perfect countermelody to the carefully curated playlist she’s set to sound over the speaker system. The air is clean and crisp, not a cloud in the sky. The day couldn’t be more perfect. Her mother calls out to her across the yard, the song switches, a drip of melting ice-cream trickles down the edge of the cone to land on her thumb, and it is in that precise moment that Regina stops breathing.

 

* * *

 

Things are still tense. Regina has come back to school after the summer with her spinal halo firmly in place and a cold sadness in her eyes. Regina, Gretchen, and Karen have gone back to sitting together again at their very same table. It’s familiar. Almost too familiar. Except that now there’s a stillness that creeps over the entire school; an uncertainty. Gretchen is torn between not doing anything for Regina because “I don’t have to anymore.” and doing everything because “Her neck is like… broken or something.” Cady sits with them at least once a week, and on those days, everyone breathes a little easier.

 

An entire month passes before the unspoken stand-off comes to an end.

 

Surprisingly, it’s Karen who finally breaks the tension.

 

Unsurprisingly, she didn’t mean to.

 

Janis is sitting down for lunch, chatting idly with Aaron as Cady and Damian wind their way through the cafeteria towards them. Damian is in the middle of recounting some story from French class that really isn’t as interesting as his gesturing would have you believe when Janis’ eyeline is suddenly assaulted by a mess of hot pink. Karen places an empty lunch tray on the table beside Cady and busies herself with pulling a container of pasta out of her bag. Janis freezes on instinct and Damian mirrors her with wide, shocked eyes and an uncontrollable grin. Karen’s taken three or four bites before Cady manages to broach a gentle greeting.

 

“Hi, Karen?” Karen turns, confusion evident, and pure delight takes over her features.

 

“Cady, you’re here! Hi! I was looking for you!”

 

“Uhhh… well, you found me?” Cady sits bewildered as Karen digs through the rest of her handbag before arising triumphant.

 

“I have something very important to ask you.” She clutches something hidden in her hands and twists sideways to address Cady head on. Karen levels her eyesight and speaks with the utmost seriousness; holding out a keychain with a semi-realistic illustration of a tiger on it, complete with rainbow stripes and a unicorn horn. “I need you to tell me everything you know about this.”

 

Cady laughs bright and happy, Damian looks as though he just found his soulmate, and Janis would be jealous, but she can’t help smiling too. She absentmindedly glances passed Karen’s shoulder to where Regina is sitting, resolutely not looking in their direction. Gretchen is stood frozen next to her table, sending terrified daggers at the back of Karen’s head. Janis stills, watching – along with the majority of the cafeteria – as her indecision unfolds. Gretchen’s eyes glance from Regina to them, back to Regina, back to-

 

“Just sit somewhere already!” Regina snaps without glancing up. Her voice is as steady as ever, though her neck is taut; shoulders heavy even with the halo now gone. Gretchen squawks a startled yelp, and immediately slams the tray down next to Regina. She has one foot under the table before she jerks the tray back up and flees towards Karen; stray lettuce scraps fluttering in her wake. Gretchen screeches to a halt and slides in next to Janis, her breaths coming in sharp waves. Cady is still enraptured by her conversation with Karen, so its Damian who slides the remainder of his cheese fries over to Gretchen with a sympathetic look that says, “You need these more than I do.” Gretchen says nothing but nods shakily at him, and the cafeteria returns to life.

 

When Cady re-joins the conversation, Aaron is talking about… baseball? Karen is pouting slightly but brightens once more at the sight of Gretchen and cheese fries. In contrast, Cady startles and falls uncharacteristically quiet. She keeps glancing back over her shoulder every couple of minutes to where Regina is now sitting alone. She catches Janis’ eye, and sends her a half-pleading, half-questioning look.

 

“It’s fine. She can sit with us.” Janis sighs, pushing her food aside, the sight of mushy peas suddenly making her feel queasy. Cady breathes out a “Thank you.” and leans across the table to place a quick peck on her forehead. She darts away from the table and Janis refuses to watch. Not alone in her apprehension, she feels Aaron tense up beside her and waves vaguely in his direction. “So uhh… about that baseball match, yeah?”

 

“What?”

 

* * *

 

It’s three weeks before her party when Regina comes down for breakfast to find her parents whispering heatedly in the kitchen.

 

“It’s gone on for long enough, Sabrina. It’s really time we stepped in.” He scoffs, voice lowering even more. “There’s going to be girls there in their bathing suits.”

 

“Come on, baby. She’s basically a kid! They’re not thinking about… stuff like that. They just want balloons! And cake! And… Oh! We should hire a DJ! Do people still have DJs…”

 

“You’re not listening to me. Regina-”

 

“Regina!” She’s hovering at the entrance to the kitchen when her mother catches her eye, hurrying towards her and swiping a bowl of muesli off the countertop as she moves. Regina takes the bowl from her, watching with furrowed brows as the milk almost spills over the edge.

 

“I don’t want a DJ.”

 

“Perfect! Then we’ll-” She wavers, smile tight. “How much of that conversation did you hear, sweetie?”

 

Regina is about to answer when her father moves in front and reaches out to take the bowl from her grasp.

 

“Why don’t you go upstairs and finish getting ready, dear. I think Regina and I should talk.” Sabrina hesitates for the briefest moment before nodding and hurrying out of the room.

 

“Okay, sweetheart. There’s something we need to discuss.” He kneels down before her; eyes gentle, and voice lilting. “Your friend, Janis. You can’t hang out with her anymore.”

 

“But my party, she’s-”

 

“Right. Of course, you’ll need to call her and tell her that plans have changed.”

 

“There’s-”

 

“I know she’s your friend, but you’re young and there are things you don’t understand yet. You have to trust me here, Gina. I know her type: the clothes, the music, the attitude. That kind of lifestyle… You don’t want to end up like her, right?” He ruffles her hair, chuckling softly. “Come on, we’ll go and call her now. Don’t worry, if it’s too difficult, I can talk for you.”

 

* * *

 

Janis is in art class – utterly absorbed in her latest work – when she’s disturbed from her peace by a flurry of panicked shrieking. The shrieking as it turns out, is coming from Ms Carson (her young, but remarkably accomplished art teacher) as she’s being confronted face-to-face with Regina George for the first time. Regina is standing – stoic and unbothered – as Ms Carson flounders with a bunch of papers on her desk, muttering platitudes at the immovable Regina. It’s an odd sight to behold, but Janis immediately regrets her nosiness when Regina meets her stare. Janis tears her gaze away and fixes to her work. Minutes go by, and it’s not like Janis is keeping an eye on her or anything, but it’s clear Regina is loitering uneasily out of her comfort zone. More than that, she’s wandering closer and closer to Janis’ workspace. Before long, she’s stopped just a few paces away, and even if Janis hadn’t been caught staring before, she definitely can’t pretend not to notice her now.

 

“What are you doing here?” It’s more accusatory than she intends, but she wasn’t prepared for this today.

 

“I’m not allowed to do P.E. until my physical therapist signs off on it, so I’ve been transferred here for a while.” Regina speaks indifferently, not even making eye-contact with Janis, though she continues drifting closer. She looks around the room with an unconcealed mixture of apprehension and disgust. Janis lets out a short chuckle at the way Regina glowers at the paint-flecked tables. “So, this is where the art freaks come to play.”

 

Janis makes a disgruntled acknowledgement in her throat, but doesn’t know how to reply to that, so the conversation falls short. She’s determinedly not looking at Regina, though she can feel her electrifying stare fixed at the back of her neck. It takes everything in her not to turn around, so she simply takes a deep breath and focuses on her canvas, trying not to notice the slight tremor in her hands.

 

“Is this yours?” The words shock her, closer than expected. Regina is leaning over her shoulder, perusing the easel; an explosion of colour and dripping fangs. It is Janis’. And up until this very moment, she was proud of how it was coming along. Now, with Regina’s stony gaze crossing over the canvas, she thinks it would be more effective as kindling.

 

“Uh, yeah. It’s not finished. Obviously.” Janis clears her throat uncomfortably, dipping in front of Regina to move between her and the still-drying work, as if that would remove it from her mind. “I still need to fix up the proportions on the talons. And the break here is messy… I’ll probably just start over-”

 

“Sure, sure. Sounds good.” Regina has already lost interest, clearly looking around for somewhere relatively clean to sit down, and Janis tries not to take it personally.

 

“Paper’s up the front. I have pencils in my bag you can use. Blank canvases and paints are in the back room.” Janis directs Regina around the long room, turning to face her when only met with a heavy pause and no response. Regina squints at her, exasperated.

 

“Do I look like someone who paints.” She gestures down herself; pristine from head to heel. Janis doesn’t try to hide rolling her eyes.

 

“So, what. You’re just going to sit here doing nothing?”

 

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.” Regina pulls a stool over to her, brushing it off with one hand and makes a displeased grimace at whatever residue is left over. She delicately perches herself on the edge, adjusting her jacket, and looking for all the world like a prissy bird of paradise making roost for the night. Janis wonders for a brief second if Regina would slap her for painting her poultry portrait, but thinks better of it, clearing her throat and returning to reality.

 

“Fine, suit yourself. Don’t come crying to me in two days when you’re dying of boredom.” She smirks, returning to easel with feathers still in her mind.

 

“Better than dying of internal bleeding.”

 

The room runs cold.

 

She can hear the sounds of other students chattering and laughing, music playing softly over the expanse, and yet they feel like an eternity away.

 

“Oh my god, pull the paintbrush out of your ass. That was a joke. You’re allowed to laugh.” Regina frowns at her, and everything clicks back into place. Except that Janis’ heart is still pounding painfully in her chest. She lets out a strained, utterly unconvincing laugh and turns once more back to canvas.

 

They don’t talk for the rest of the class.

 

When the bell sounds its blessed relief, Janis scrambles to pack her supplies away. For no particular reason, she decides that today is the perfect day to make sure that the paints are all organised in the back room as they’re theoretically supposed to be. Several minutes go by, and when she’s sure to be the last person left, she ducks back out of the storage room. Well, second last, it seems. Regina is standing exactly where she left her, absentmindedly picking at a patch of dried yellow paint on a nearby table and looking around the room with unreserved curiosity. Janis steels herself and approaches quietly, trying to figure out the fastest and least awkward way to make this goodbye happen, when Regina speaks.

 

“Finally, you’re done. Are you headed to the cafeteria now? I can walk with you.” It’s a simple question. One feigned with nonchalance, and yet Janis can tell there’s a faint nervousness to Regina’s expression. She feels her breath catch in her throat at the thought and doesn’t dare to speak, instead nodding sharply. Regina flashes her a brilliantly forced smile and turns to stride out of the room. Janis follows dutifully, and it’s only halfway to the cafeteria that Regina realises her blunder; falling in beside Janis to match their pace.

 

Ten weeks pass, and Regina still refuses to pick up a paintbrush. Or charcoal. Or even a crayon. Nothing that could put even the slightest smudge on her flawless appearance. But she has made a game of scribbling in pencil on a blank edge of Janis’ artwork when she’s not looking. Janis turns back this time to greet a vague something that looks like a cross between a bunny and an eldritch horror. She hears Regina’s snickering behind her and shoots a middle finger over her shoulder. In return, she’s met with a light kick to the back of her calf and it stings slightly, but she smiles.

 

* * *

 

Janis is six when she first hears the word ‘lesbian.’

 

She grew up in a small house in a small suburb. Her father is an artist; a sculptor who works with “unusual materials.” Janis spent a lot of her childhood in the garage (or occasionally their back yard if the weather was good) watching her father mould trash into treasure. When she’s older, she starts to hate how he stops at any and every yard sale he sees, and that moving through the garage is like a tetanus obstacle course. But she still keeps all the figurines he makes for her on the bedroom window sill. Her mother works at a publishing company. She’s soft in every sense of the word, and her boss is getting married to her fiancée next month.

 

Janis is thirteen when someone first calls her a lesbian.

 

It’s the first time she’s ever heard her mother furious. The sound of Regina’s laughter is echoing in her ears, but it’s the way her mother spits the name ‘George’ that she can’t get out of her head.

 

Janis is fifteen when she first accepts she’s a lesbian.

 

It’s terrifying.

 

She’s been taking part in a visual arts masterclass at a community college a few suburbs away; refining the technique she developed on a tarp in her back yard. Or well, she’s trying to. Turns out she’s not too great at following a step-by-step guide to anything. Especially with Aleyna just an easel away.

 

Aleyna is in the year above her at some liberal arts school on the other side of the city. She has dark hair and dark eyes, and she’s confident in a way that Janis has never seen before. A quiet, casual kind of self-assurance. She slouches when she paints, makes her own clothes, and rolls her eyes at Janis behind their professor’s back whenever he critiques her work. She flirts fearlessly and knows exactly where she wants to be in five years.

 

They’re painting yet another still life of yet another vase of cheap, plastic flowers; this time focussing on “evocative colour composition.” And Janis is… bored. She keeps switching between the same two petals, and at this rate the flowers are going to be three-dimensional before she gets it right. It seems Aleyna is just as bored when Janis glances over to her canvas. She has “reimagined” the still life into a dark city street; a discarded bouquet under low lamplight and a couple- Janis blinks, stunned for a moment before jerking back a bit too fast, blushing a bit too much. Aleyna is just watching with a fond, knowing smile and leans over to her.

 

“You want to grab a coffee together before class on Monday?”

 

Janis blurts out a quick “Yes!” before her mind has the chance to overthink and one week later – with hands gripping the lapel of Aleyna’s jacket – there’s really no denying it anymore.

 

* * *

 

The world has been flipped upside-down. Regina got hit by a bus. Cady won Spring Fling Queen. Janis is actually having fun at a school dance.

 

She still needs to have a proper talk with Cady, and she should probably apologise to Gretchen at some point. And Regina… Regina is here. Alive, and smiling, and so very alive. She’s loopy on pain medication with a bright, dopey grin on her face and she hasn’t left the dancefloor in over an hour. Nobody wants to get too close to her, because of the spinal halo and a dozen other reasons, so she’s in a circle of her own. Just spinning. It feels wrong to see Regina so carefree, and there’s a niggling familiarity that clenches in her palms. Janis can only stare.

 

“If there’s ever a time to talk to her, this is it.” Damian nudges her, a rare sincerity in his voice. “She’s high as a kite, exceedingly honest, and probably won’t remember any of this in the morning.”

 

Janis just rolls her eyes and pulls him back out into the crowd with her. An honest Regina is perhaps her worst nightmare. She can’t handle that tonight.

 

It seems the fates have a fickle sense of humour. But she’s known that for years.

 

* * *

 

Janis has changed a lot in the last few months. She’s gotten really into horror movies, wears clothes two sizes too big for her, and is constantly listening to this screechy music that makes Regina’s head ache.

 

More than that, they’re drifting apart. Janis has new friends now, who listen to her weird music and actually like it. Regina doesn’t get along with them. And she doesn’t think Janis gets along with Regina’s friends either.

 

Regina has changed a lot in the last few months. She’s gotten really into make-up, is always gossiping with her new friends, and has a weird obsession with the colour pink.

 

They’re hanging out, just the two of them. It’s easier that way: Janis doesn’t get along with Regina’s other friends. Regina is proudly showing off some signed album of some generic boyband, and Janis is trying to feign interest, but it’s obvious to both of them that she doesn’t really care. Regina huffs and drags her over to the computer; demanding that they both watch Generic Boyband’s latest music video, so then Janis will understand what she’s missing. Regina looks at her with desperate eyes, and Janis doesn’t know why it matters so much.

 

* * *

 

It’s the first proper party that Regina has thrown since the start of senior year, and she’s having a terrible time. Between Gretchen throwing up in not one but four potted plants, and some Mathlete she doesn’t even know the name of spilling his drink all down her back, she’s none too happy. Regina’s upstairs, having just finished changing into a new shirt (the previous one now soaking in her en-suite), when the door bursts open. She whips around, ready to let loose on whichever drunken idiot has very unfortunate timing, only to find Janis stumbling into her room.

 

“Heeey!” She smiles dopily, proudly brandishing an unopened box of laundry detergent towards Regina with one hand. “Your mum told me to give you this. Something about maths?”

 

Regina shakes free of the eleven different emotions she’s felt in the last few seconds and moves to take the box, thanking Janis as she does. She’s dipped into the en-suite for a grand total of six seconds when a resounding crash sounds out from behind her. Fuck.

 

Janis, for one, is having a great night. And the fact that she’s currently faceplanted on Regina’s floor isn’t going to change that. She vaguely hears an expletive from above her and in a flurry of movement, there’s a strong hand grasping the front of her jacket.

 

“You’re a mess.” Regina mutters, ducking forwards to heave her back onto her feet. “How much have you had to drink?”

 

“Ugh, please.” Janis grunts as she pushes up, steadying herself against Regina’s arm. “I’ve had like 3 drinks. I’m totally chill.”

 

“You’re drunk.”

 

“Am not.”

 

“Really. You’re trying that bullshit with me?” Regina raises one sculpted eyebrow in practiced derision.

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“Such wit. Such grace.”

 

“Hey. Drunk people don’t have to be witty, or grace… y.” Janis squints at her, pouting, and Regina hates that it’s so endearing. Janis grins at her lazily, swaying slightly on her feet, and Regina can’t help but smile back. The room suddenly feels a lot smaller.

 

“Who’d have known, the big bad Janis Sarkisian can’t handle her liquor.” She teases, dropping her gaze to where her hand is still entangled, fingers fiddling absently with the rough material of Janis’ jacket.

 

“Haven’t had the chance, nobody’s invited me to a party in fuck knows. You know that.” She laughs, unthinkingly. Regina goes rigid, and Janis can feel her hand tighten against her. “Fuck, I didn’t mean-”

 

“Yes, you did.” Regina lets out a shaky sigh, nods, and moves to back away. However, Janis is still braced against her and Regina doesn’t even make it two steps away before the room lurches at her absence. A wave of nausea passes over her and okay, maybe she’s a tiny bit more drunk than she previous thought. Janis yanks Regina back towards her, panicked and eyes wild.

 

“Janis!” Concerns colours her voice, though it quickly turns wary. “I swear to god, if you throw up on me, I will literally disembowel you.”

 

“Just. Don’t. Move.” She screws her eyes shut, pressing her hands down on Regina’s shoulders, breathing slow and measured. Inhale... 4… 5… 6. Exhale… 4… 5… 6. Regina’s perfume is light and floral, and it doesn’t help with the intoxicating feeling, but it does help to distract from the pounding in her stomach.

 

A small infinity later, when the staggering sensation has passed, she re-opens her eyes to find Regina inches away, staring at her with the fondest mourning in her eyes. The collar of Regina’s shirt is unbelievably smooth beneath her hands, and all of a sudden, Janis is feeling unsteady for a very different reason. Regina startles when their eyes meet and tears her stare away; a strangled noise catching in her throat.

 

Janis want to smirk at the light dusting of pink that flushes high in her cheeks, but she’s strangely transfixed, unable to move. From the crack in the partially ajar door, a soft ray of light plays across Regina’s features. Her hair is softly glowing, loose wisps brushing over golden-lit eyes. Her lips are painted with a matte lavender; a gentle, glittering sheen overlaying the colour. Probably overdue for a touch-up, the inner corner smudged on one side; the slightest crack in an otherwise picture-perfect façade. A nice reminder. Under the low light, it shimmers when she speaks in a way that’s utterly entrancing. And- oh wait shit, she’s talking.

 

“-still there?” The edge of her lip curves up in a nervous smile, and right… eyes. Janis flickers back up to Regina’s stare and her eyes seem darker than before. But there’s an anxious energy in the way she’s holding herself; almost scared under Janis’ touch. Something inside her melts, and she brings a hand up to where Regina’s pulse is hammering in her neck. She brushes her thumb over the soft skin. Back and forth. Steadily. Soothing. She feels Regina swallow shakily against her, and pauses. There’s a definite, desperate fear in Regina’s eyes now and yet she’s leaning in so nearly imperceptibly towards her. Regina’s stuttering breath plays over her lips, and her eyes automatically slide shut, closing the slight distance between them.

 

Janis kisses her, slow and deliberate. Regina stills. Her lips are warm and sweet and gentle, and while her lipstick feels vaguely chalky, it tastes pleasantly like… pineapple? Interesting. Janis tilts her head, and hums curiously against Regina’s still motionless lips. If Regina wasn’t thrumming with warmth beneath her hands and so unbelievably soft against her mouth, Janis might think she were a statue. She ponders for a moment before pressing back harder, taking Regina’s lower lip between her teeth.

 

Regina whimpers an unintelligible sound of conflicted confusion.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

No, definitely pineapple.

 

“Your lipstick is purple, but it tastes like pineapple. That doesn’t make sense.”  

 

Regina inhales sharply, a nervous imitation of a laugh.

 

“Kevin was making tropical mojitos earlier. They were surprisingly nice.”

 

“Mhmm, I can tell.” The rational in the back of Janis’ head is telling her she should probably pull away now, but that feels like a lot of effort for very little reward. She drifts closer. “You taste good.”

 

Regina makes a choked sound and squeezes her eyes shut for a brief instant.

 

“This-” Her thoughts are interrupted in a sharp instant as Janis’ lips brush the underside of her jaw. “This… is a very… bad idea.”

 

“Feels pretty good to me.” She can feel Janis’ smirk against her skin and fuck, self-control.

 

“You’re adorable. But you’re drunk. And we should go back to the party, before… before you do something you regret.” Janis pulls away and looks at her with heart-aching confusion.

 

“What would I regret?”

 

“This?” She pulls Janis’ hands away from where they’re wrapped around her neck, though she continues to hold them close to her. “Me?”

 

Janis frowns; visibly sobered, in spirit if not body. She disentangles herself from Regina, stumbling lightly as she does, but manages to catch herself.

 

“Okay. But we’re going to talk about this.”

 

“Okay.” Regina nods with only the slightest touch of hesitation. Janis hooks a finger beneath her chin and moves her up to directly meet her eyes, slightly clouded-over but unwavering with their focus.

 

“Even if I don’t remember, and tonight’s a blur. You promise me we’ll talk?”

 

“I promise.” Regina doesn’t hesitate this time, but Janis doesn’t relax with her words. Instead an apprehension starts to colour her vision. It’s only there for the briefest moment before she shakes her head in a rough jolt and plasters a teasing smirk back on her face.

 

“You sure you don’t wanna stay up here and make out?”

 

“No. Downstairs. Right now.” She pushes a laughing Janis out into the corridor, shutting the door behind them. And even though ten minutes later Shane smashes through the coffee table, and she has to spend a solid half an hour convincing Cady that swimming while drunk is a very stupid idea, she still can’t keep the smile off her face for the rest of the night.

 

Regina wakes up the next morning with only a slight headache in tow. She stumbles downstairs – narrowly avoiding stepping on Kevin, who’s passed out in the middle of the staircase – and surveys the damage. Not too bad, all considering.

 

She’s halfway through making herself a cup of coffee when she hears movement behind her. She turns to find Janis stumbling into the kitchen, looking for all the world like a bedraggled zombie drawn towards the noise of the water boiling. Janis, quite frankly, looks like shit. She’s still in her rumpled clothes from the party last night, sweat-slicked hair sticking up in every direction possible, and her eyeliner has smeared down one half of her face. But Regina’s heart stutters all the same.

 

“Good morning.” Janis groans in a way that makes it clear she’s not happy with either of those words. Regina raises an eyebrow. “Rough night?”

 

“Ugghh… don’t be so chipper” Janis collapses against the kitchen countertop; half on the stool, half on the cold granite. “Why’d you let me drink so much.”

 

“I’m not your keeper.”

 

“You’re right. Where’s Damian, and why’d he let me drink so much.”

 

Regina chuckles fondly at that, and busies herself in the kitchen, her hands fluttering overtime with a nervous anticipation.

 

“I was thinking of making breakfast. Do you want anything?”

 

“You can’t cook.” Janis squints at her, befuddled.

 

“I can make some pretty decent scrambled eggs. Absolutely nothing else though.”

 

“I like mine sunny-side up. So, you’re shit out of luck.”

 

Regina laughs radiantly and half-forms a retort but is interrupted as the water finishes boiling. She flits around the kitchen quickly before sliding onto the stool across from Janis; coffee in one hand and pushing a mug of tea towards the still slumped-over girl with the other. Janis glances up, makes a grateful noise and pulls the mug to her. They sit in peaceful silence for a while, until Janis has regained some semblance of coherence. Janis is sat staring at her mug with almost intimidating determination. Regina clears her throat, and Janis pauses, but eventually meets her stare.

 

“About last night…?”

 

“The only thing I remember from last night is Cady screaming “I’m Spring Fling Queen, bitch.” and cannonballing into the pool.”

 

Regina scowls at the memory momentarily before taking in the full effect of Janis’ words. She breathes deep, steeling herself; preparing to figure out what to say, and how, and when and then… And then she meets Janis’ eyes. There’s a vortex of swirling emotion there: nervousness, and wonder, and… regret. And Regina knows in that instant that she remembers everything. “Janis-”

 

“I have to get home before my parents worry. I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?” And she’s gone before Regina can say another word. Regina stands alone in her kitchen, utter silence surrounding her, and she doesn’t dare to cry.

 

* * *

 

Regina is nine when she realises she likes girls in a way she’s not supposed to.

 

Regina is thirteen when she learns the word “dyke.”

 

Regina is twenty-two when she can call herself a lesbian without feeling guilty.

 

* * *

 

Regina comes out to Damian first.

 

It’s awkward to say the least.

 

They’re on a school trip: an excursion to the planetarium for the entire senior year. They say it’s an “invaluable learning opportunity”, but it’s more a poorly disguised excuse to keep them occupied for the day while exam preparations are underway. The rest of their grade is carted off in a parade of hideous yellow buses. Regina and Damian are following along behind in his mother’s Prius.

 

Regina doesn’t take the bus.

 

To be fair, even before, she would never step foot on one. But now, it feels like she’s not supposed to. And she’s damn sure nobody is going to question her for it.

 

They’re travelling along in relative silence, except for the Ariana Grande song that’s blaring over the car’s speaker system. Damian is singing along at full volume, every word and note perfectly memorised. He’s dancing too – as much as you can while driving – with an unabashed and flamboyant fearlessness. There’s something about his carefree cheer that builds a gradual pit of dread deep in Regina’s chest, but she continues to watch his impromptu performance.

 

“Okay I know I’m stunning, but this staring situation is excessive.” Regina still doesn’t look away, she just holds his gaze with a curious fear evident on her face. She turns down the speakers until it’s barely audible, ignoring Damian’s affronted yelp at her action.

 

“It’s just-” She falters for a second, thoughts failing her. “How are you so… gay.”

 

“Nope don’t do that, girl.” He shoots her a grim smile; playful but assertive. “You’ve come too far, and best believe I will drop your perky ass off at the next light and make you walk.”

 

Regina has the decency to look guilty, but there’s more behind her anxiety. She sinks lower in the front seat, one hand coming up subconsciously to rub at her collarbone, where the spinal halo once lay heavy.

 

“You know what I mean. You don’t exactly blend in.”

 

“Well honey, when you’re this flaming, there’s nothing in the world that can douse your spark.” Damian laughs, apprehension hidden with practiced ease. He quickly moves to turn the music back to full force but is interrupted by Regina’s outburst.

 

“Can you please be serious? Just for one minute.” Regina snaps; angry in a way that Damian can’t quite ascertain. She reaches out a hand and yanks the aux cord out of the socket, stopping the song entirely.

 

“… Your tone seems very pointed right now.”

 

“Yes! Because it’s frustrating. I’m trying to-” Regina flusters angrily, unsatisfied with her words. “I’m trying to have an important conversation.”

 

“That was- Never mind. My references are wasted on you straight people.” There’s a long silence as Damian fixes his eyes on the road with unusual seriousness. He doesn’t look back at her when he eventually resumes speaking. “So, what is it you’re really asking then.”

 

“Why make things harder for yourself?”

 

“Opposed to what? Stay a terminal closet-case forever.”

 

“No! No, not forever. Just until you’re out of here. College. In New York, or Amsterdam, or just- Away from North Shore.” There’s a tremor in her voice now, emotion clouding every word.

 

“It’s not that easy for me.” He breathes in deeply, too loud in the silence. “I wasn’t kidding before; people take one look at me and… I never really had the chance to keep it quiet.”

 

They sit quietly for another long moment before Damian speaks, words gentle in their wonder. 

 

“And in a way, I’m glad for it: that’s not me. I’d rather be myself than anything other people want me to be.”

 

Regina steels at his words; her eyes darting around the small interior as if looking for an escape route. The tremor that once held her voice has now spread to her whole body and she’s shaking almost violently in her seat. Damian startles at the sight, shooting out a concerned hand to rest on her shoulder.

 

“Regina? Are you okay?”

 

“Pull over.” She gasps, between gritted teeth.

 

“Why, what’s happening? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

 

“Just pull over. Now!”

 

Damian veers off the road onto the nearest garden strip, flipping off the car that (rightfully) blares it horn at them as it passes by.

 

“Regina, talk to me. Are you alright?”

 

“I’m gay.”

 

Out of everything Damian expected in that moment.

 

“What?”

 

Regina seems to attempt an answer, but the waves that wreak her body finally break into sobs, and she cannot speak.

 

“Oh, honey. Come here.” He moves hurriedly, undoing his seatbelt and sliding towards her to pull her shaking form to his chest. He just holds her, as she continues to weep, clinging to the front of his shirt. Ten minutes later, when the sobs have turned to a gentle sniffling, he kisses the top of her head and whispers into the stillness.

 

“I am so proud of you.”

 

It’s both the right and wrong thing to say as he can feel new tears start to wet the front of his shirt. Another minute later, she pulls away, drying her eyes with a noticeable embarrassment on her face.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… That was a lot.”

 

“No judgement here, honey. I’ve cried twice in the last forty-eight hours. It’s good to let it all out.”

 

She smiles genuinely now, maybe the first time Damian’s seen her look so serene. And although her cheeks are still lined with tears and her eyes are streaked with bloodshot red, she looks happy. It only lasts a moment before her expression clouds again.

 

“You won’t tell anyone, right? Especially not-” She breaks off, her voice threatening to fracture once more.

 

“I won’t tell her. I won’t tell anyone.” He speaks with all the sincerity he can muster, taking her hand in his. “I swear on my Playbill collection. So, you know it’s serious.”

 

She doesn’t respond for a while, simply clutching onto his hand as they watch the yellow buses disappear further and further into the distance.

 

“What do I do now?”

 

“Anything. Nothing. There’s no rules to this; you do what feels right.” He squeezes her hand gently for a brief second before letting go and turning to restart the car. “As Mother Ru once said to me: if you can’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?”

 

“Your mother sounds like a smart woman.” Regina speaks with the utmost sincerity and is shocked to be met in return with a cry of distressed disbelief.   

 

“Oh my god, that’s it. We’re skipping this dumb trip and going to my house; you’re in desperate need of a Gay Education.” He gives a pointed look that’s clearly telling her not to object. “First step: Ice-cream and a Drag Race marathon.”

 

“… I don’t know anything about cars.”

 

“You’re killing me. You’re killing your mother.”

 

* * *

 

Janis ducks out of the overheating gym for a beat of fresh air – laughter still on her lips, a warmth aching in her chest – to find Regina standing under the flickering fluorescence that lights the bleak concrete stairs. She’s leaning against one of the metal railings that border the steps, bent at an awkward angle to look up at the sky. Janis’ heart clenches, and suddenly it’s freezing. She wants to turn and run back inside, but now Regina is looking at her and there’s a thread pulling unthinkingly towards her.

 

They’re standing a few metres apart. Too far for a normal conversation, and yet this is the closest they’ve been in years. The night seems hushed. Stars pierce the dark above. It’s cold. Regina is humming softly, under her breath. Minutes pass.

 

“I’m sorry you got hit by a bus.” Janis blurts out, her voice seeming even harsher in the still air. Regina stops humming. Janis squeezes her eyes tight, wincing. One sentence in and this is already not how she wanted it to go.

 

“Mmmmm.” Regina sways gently. “So am I.”

 

Janis blinks. Regina starts humming again.

 

Well… she tried. Janis clears her throat, makes a half-hearted gesture towards the gym, and moves to head back to the dance.

 

“Did you know I died.” Regina’s gaze is fixed unwaveringly on her. “For fifteen seconds. I was dead. It’s strange. Everyone always treated me like I was invincible, and I think somehow a part of me started to believe it too. This was all meant to be petty high school drama; a couple years and all this bullshit would be behind us forever. Death wasn’t even an option.”

 

Janis doesn’t know when her heart stopped beating, but she feels it reignite. She scoffs, the cold catching in her throat. The fluorescence is casting a ghastly white on the rough ground, and yet Regina’s dress is glowing with an unearthly beauty. She’s still staring with uncomfortable familiarity.

 

“Wow, Regina on meds is all philosophical and shit, huh?” She doesn’t seem to hear her.

 

“You know, out of everything that happened this year…” Janis watches with a prickling dread as Regina draws closer, a hand softly outstretched. Regina has a distant, dreamy look in her eyes as she reaches up, and Janis stops breathing. She feels fingers playing over the crown that she forgot was still tangled in her hair. “…I never thought I’d see the day that Janis Sarkisian left with the Spring Fling crown. Even if it is only sixty percent of it.”

 

Janis can’t help the startled, gasping laugh that leaves her lips, and Regina pulls back.

 

“Well that’s all Cady. You know as well as I do.” Her smile falters, and Janis breaks her gaze to the parking lot below. “It’s all bullshit anyway; doesn’t mean anything. Just a cheap hunk of plastic.”

 

“You could give it to your dad. He loves all that gross junk.” Janis stops breathing for the second time in minutes. The world tilts, and she sees Regina’s lips moving before she hears her. “You’re staring at me. Why are you staring at me?”

 

Janis jerks her gaze back to the empty car park as if she’s been burned.

 

“Sorry, I just forgot… that you knew me.” Regina snaps towards her with a blunt snicker, and all the softness that the darkness held has fled.

 

“What? You forgot? That doesn’t make any sense. Didn’t you start all this to get back at me or something. Please, you’re still obsessed.”

 

“Go fuck yourself, Regina.” Janis spits out automatically. She doesn’t know what she expects in response; some cutting insult, a snarky joke, maybe even a slap. What she doesn’t expect is laughter. Pure, uninhibited laughter that she hasn’t heard in years. It echoes and echoes; bouncing back from every angle, and the trees seem to bend towards them. Janis suddenly feels tears prick behind her eyes.

 

“Why- what- You-” Janis chokes. This isn’t real. She’s probably dreaming. Or passed out from paint fumes. Or she got knocked out in that damned trust fall assembly. She’ll wake up any second with a splitting headache and her mother freaking out and everything will be normal again. She brings her hands up, digging the heels of her palms into her eyelids, and… Regina is still laughing; clutching onto the metal railing with one hand and wiping tears from the edge of her lashes with the other.

 

“It’s just that-” She steadies herself enough to talk, shoulders still quaking ever so slightly under the halo. “I got hit by a bus. And here you are weeks later, telling me to go fuck myself. God, you’re such a bitch.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Oh chill, that’s not a bad thing. You’re the first person to be real with me since the crash.”

 

Silence, again.

 

“It’s actually kinda hot.”

 

And Janis short-circuits.

 

Regina either doesn’t realise what she said, or she’s too drugged up to care. But either way she’s just carelessly smiling, eyes on the horizon, and Janis grits her teeth. Anger is coursing through her veins, her breath painful in her throat, her vision pulsing. She doesn’t know if she wants to scream at Regina, or just run away. Or-

 

Headlights break over her face, startling her from herself, and the night returns once again to silence.

 

“That’s my mother’s car.” Regina straightens up, glancing warily down the steps to the curb where Sabrina is now pulling up. Janis is willing herself to move.

 

“Aren’t you going to help me down the stairs?” Regina snaps, though there’s an unmistakable tremor to her voice. Janis holds back tears, unclenches her fists, and wraps an arm around Regina and they start their descent.

 

By the time Sabrina reaches them, they’ve managed to get to the bottom of the concrete stairs.

 

“I can take it from here! Thank you so much-” Sabrina trills, arms outstretched towards her daughter, faltering when she processes who’s standing beside her. “Janis. Janis! Hi! It’s been a while hasn’t it. Not since- oh well that doesn’t matter. How are you? You look lovely tonight! I love your… paint.”

 

“Mother, stop. She gets it.” There’s less bite than her tone implies there should be, her voice strained. The short walk down the stairs has taken its toll, and Regina pulls in a sharp gasp as pain colours her pace. Sabrina takes it all in stride without a moment of hesitation, leading Regina towards the open car door with a slow tenderness. It isn’t until Regina is tucked safely into the back seat that she remembers Janis exists. Sabrina whirls around, wincing to see Janis still standing there, and with a nervous grin she cautiously approaches.

 

“Do you need a lift home?” She offers a placating hand. “I remember- I mean, it’s on the way.”

 

Janis doesn’t know why she says yes. But sitting in the dark silence next to Regina, she sends a quick text to Damian telling him not to worry and that she’s found her own way home.

 

* * *

 

She’s lying on hard asphalt – rocks and debris cutting into her ragged skin – though she can hardly feel it when compared with the agony that is coursing through every cell in her body. Her head is hazy, ears ringing, the air is icy cold against her face. Even the slightest movement feels like it’s carving a molten scar into her chest, and she can hear something that sounds suspiciously like elevator music playing in the back of her mind. The sky above is pulsing, and the vague shapes of her mother and Gretchen are hovering over her with an almost surprised awe in their eyes. She can see their lips moving, but they’re too far away to reach her. The sky keeps pulsing, and everything goes black. She starts to breathe again.

 

* * *

 

It’s been three weeks since the party.

 

Three weeks since Janis kissed her.

 

Three weeks since she left.

 

The tension that had slowly been dissipating over the last six months has suddenly filled the hallways of North Shore once more. Nobody knows what happened. They can’t. And yet they must know something is wrong, as the student body now parts before her with terrified awe when she strides through the corridors. She’s trying her best not to fall into old patterns, but after one regretful encounter with a clumsy freshman, she decides it’s  safer to just avoid everyone until the storm clouds fade.

 

Which is how she finds herself here, in the art room, while everyone else moves to the cafeteria for lunch. She’s spent the last week here, and she hates how pathetically at peace she feels between the colourful walls.

 

She doesn’t hear Janis come in.

 

She only notices when a presence leans against the table beside her and turns to find Janis watching her with guarded eyes.

 

Regina wants so desperately to feel angry. Anger is so much easier.

 

“I think I owe you an explanation.”

 

Regina wants to respond, but the words catch in her throat, so she simply shrugs.

 

“Don’t do that. Please don’t pretend you don’t care, I know you’re upset.”

 

She shrugs again, purposefully now. Petty, but it feels good for a fraction of an instant.

 

“Regina-” She breaks. “Can we please just talk.”

 

Silence.

 

“I’m sorry. I freaked out.”

 

Silence.

  
“You’re _Regina George_. I used to hate you. And then now, we’re hanging out again, and you’re all flirty, and making me laugh, and driving me to school, and we’re making out in your bedroom – which has barely changed since middle school – and just being in your house, there’s all these memories coming back and… You ruined my life.”

 

“I know. Believe me… there’s not a day I don’t think about that.”

 

“I thought you would freak out too. And you’d wake up the next day or the next week and you’d regret everything. Or you’d just stop talking to me. Or you’d tell everyone, and I’d come to school and-”

 

“I wouldn’t do that! … anymore.”

 

“I know. I’m sorry, I just-”

 

“No. No, don’t apologise. You have every reason to think that. I got all caught up in being with you that I forgot how much I’d hurt you… It’s no wonder- I really have been- You- … Do you think you could ever forgive me?”

 

“I don’t think so.”

 

The room crumbles, but there’s a tranquil strength that comes with the certainty. Despite that, she still can’t meet Janis’ eyes.

 

“Okay, I underst-” She doesn’t get far before Janis cuts her off; her voice a steady force in comparison to the trembling fingers that find her own. 

 

“Let me talk.” She intertwines their hands further, stepping forwards and drawing Regina’s gaze to join hers. “When I think about Regina George. The girl who had the nerve to call me her best friend while she tore me apart. What I had to go through. The person she forced me to become. It hurts. _It still fucking hurts._ That’s not the kind of thing you can forgive.”

 

Janis brings their joined hands up to press to her lips, and she’s so painfully soft against her words. Still, Regina shivers within her touch, and Janis smiles shakily before continuing.

 

“When I look at you right now, I don’t see that girl anymore. We’ve both been through so much. You’re different. I’m different. And maybe that’s stupid. And maybe this is a really bad idea. But it’s my heart; I get to choose who holds it. You broke it once before, but I trust you not to do it again and that’s all that matters right now. So, let’s just stay in this moment, and we can figure the rest out tomorrow. Sound good?”

 

“Sounds too good. I…” Her mind is running overtime with every way this could go wrong. Every way Janis could end up hurting her. And every way she could end up hurting Janis. But Janis is staring at her with eyes of hope, and it fills her with an immeasurable courage, so she just nods. “Okay, tomorrow then. But I’m taking you out to dinner; we’re doing this properly.”

 

Janis melt before her, a heart-aching smile spreading over her face, eyes glassing over ever so faintly. A golden warmth pools in the centre of Regina’s chest.

 

“You’re going to woo me, huh? You should know, I’m not so easily swayed by your feminine wiles.” She tugs Regina forwards to effectively trap herself against the edge of the table and flips her hair dramatically. It’s enchanting and terrifying how easily they fit back together.

 

“… You’re such a nerd.”

 

“I think you have to be good at maths to be nerd… And I am most definitely not.”

 

“Breaking the norm; that’s what I like about you.”

 

Janis has a retort on the tip of her tongue, but with the sight of Regina’s obnoxiously attractive smirk, it soon gives way to better ideas. She can tell Regina knows exactly where her mind has wandered as she leans in, hovering temptingly just out of reach. They’re so close they share a breath. When Janis speaks, she can feel Regina’s lips brushing against her own.

 

“Can I please kiss you now? It’s all-” She doesn’t mind the interruption as Regina surges forwards, pressing her to the table edge with unrestrained desperation. It’s months – or maybe even years – of pent-up tension all poured into one kiss. It’s electrifying, and Janis loses herself in the heady fog. She winds her hands into Regina’s hair, tugging sharply as her grip tightens. Regina lets out a whine at the sensation and Janis doesn’t mean to, but she can’t help but giggle in response. Regina pulls back a touch, pouting.

 

“Sorry, sorry. That was just really cute.” Janis leans back in to kiss her but she’s smiling too much, and Regina rolls her eyes but matches her grin. And now they’re less kissing, and more leaning against each other, wrapped in bliss.

 

Their blissful bubble, however, is popped all too soon by the pealing of the bell, signifying the end of lunch. Regina tightens her hold on Janis waist, grumbling under her breath, before stepping back.

 

“I should go. Don’t want to be late for P.E.; we’re playing lacrosse.” She pauses, pressing a soft kiss to Janis lips once more, and lingering for a beat too long to stay nonchalant. It shows as her voice wavers with her exit. “Have fun in art. Don’t miss me too much.”

 

Regina winks as she saunters out of the room. Janis flips her off and braces herself on the table to hide how her legs have gone weak beneath her. She is absolutely not swooning. Janis tries as best she can to concentrate through the rest of the day, but one overwhelming thought fills every free space in her mind; tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t written properly in far too long (especially prose over 5k words) and I haven’t written fanfiction in literal years. So, this was An Experience, and feedback would very much be appreciated. Catch me at sentiwhild.tumblr.com for questions or critiques. It’s a very new blog and not used much; mostly just a place for writing and (currently) broadway nonsense.


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